Take Out The Trash Day
by turbomagnus
Summary: A collection of shorts, drabbles and snippets for West Wing that can feature various characters and situations.
1. Aisle Seven

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 16 January.

An additional note; I've noticed that there's an increased number of omitted words and homonyms used in my '365 Project' works. I apologise for those. Normally they're caught and fixed over weeks and sometimes months of reading and re-reading my stories as I work on them, but as the '365 Project' is more of a speed and creativity drill, I don't always proofread the stories before I post them. I'll try to fix that in the future.

Disclaimer: The West Wing is the creation of Aaron Sorkin and property of NBC, used without permission or intent to profit.

What Ainsley does in this story IS illegal, DO NOT do this yourself or you will likely face charges of theft or shoplifting.

* * *

"Aisle Seven"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

* * *

It might not be Heaven, but C.J. Cregg was in a happy place; her happy place was the cookies and snack crackers aisle at a D.C. grocery store. Everyone had their little foibles or addictions, the President loved trivia facts; Josh liked his hamburgers burnt, while Donna made it one of her missions in life to get him to eat healthier; and Toby wasn't shy about his support of PBS. C.J.'s was a simple one; she loved Goldfish, she could literally eat them every day, she kept a supply in her office to snack on while watching the different news stations.

And she had reached the Goldfish Promised Land. The store was one she had never visited before, but would definitely make a point of visiting again; they had all the different flavors, regular, white chedder, extra cheesy, they even had the Rainbow Goldfish. It made C.J. feel almost giddy just looking at the rows of packets on the shelves and mentally calculating how many plastic bags full of the little white bags of fish-shaped crackers she could easily carry. For a moment, she actually even considered calling Danny and using the fact that he was always trying to get her to go to lunch or dinner with him to get him to help carry more Goldfish, even. She had quickly shot that idea down, Danny didn't need any more encouragement. While C.J. was standing there trying to decide where to begin buying Goldfish, what flavor she wanted most at the moment, she felt more than saw or heard someone approach where she stood.

"Hi, C.J.," Ainsley Hayes remarked distracted as she walked past the Press Secretary, as though she hadn't actually realised that the other woman was there, and picked up a bag of cookies from further down the shelves, "Mm, Mint Chocolate."

Then she opened the bag so that she could take one out and nibble on it.

"Mm!" Ainsley closed her eyes in pleasure at the taste, "Minty."

"Ainsley! Ainsley! Ains-" Sam Seabourne groaned as he rounded the corner and came to a stop, "Not again... Ainsley, you know you're not supposed to do that! It's illegal, it's stealing."

Ainsley pointed at the Deputy Communications Director with the nibbled-on cookie in her hand, "I'm going to pay for them, Sam."

"Yes, but you haven't yet," he countered, "Which makes eating them stealing."

"What does it matter if I pay for them then eat or eat them then pay as long as I pay for them, Sam?"

"According to the legal system, it matters a great deal," Sam answered, beginning to get flustered.

"You know, Sam, you keep getting worked up like this, you'll give yourself a heart attack." Ainsley bit the cookie in her hand in half and finished chewing and swallowing as she turned back to the shelves, "I think I saw some dark chocolate-macadamia nut cookies up here. Dark chocolate's supposed to be good for your heart, Sam."

"Ainsley..." Sam now half-walked, half-stormed up behind her and snatched the open bag of cookies out of her hand, "Stop it."

Ainsley turned back around to face him, only inches seperating them, "Why don't you make me, Sam?"

To emphasis the challenge, the blonde Southerner popped the rest of the cookie in her hand into her mouth and began to blatently and almost rudely chew it. Silently cursing the pixish looks that made her so adorable even when she was doing things like this, Sam reached the conclusion that she couldn't eat any more cookies if her mouth was otherwise occupied.

So, he kissed her. He cupped the back of her head with his free hand and pressed his lips to her own soft, pink ones and gently prodded them with his tongue until they parted to grant him entry. As his tongue moved in Ainsley's mouth, Sam had to admit that the cookie did give her a nice minty flavor. After a few moments, they seperated and Ainsley had to put her hands on his chest to keep her balance.

"Take me home, Sam," Ainsley ordered breathlessly.

"Ahem," both Sam and Ainsley turned to see C.J. standing there, arms folded and tapping her foot, looking for all the world like a disapproving mother, "Something the two of you want to tell me before I hear it from the Press Corps?"


	2. File It Under 'L'

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 6 February.

A riddle, dear readers... What begins with one word, ends with two and has three words in between?

Disclaimer: The West Wing is the creation of Aaron Sorkin and property of NBC, used without permission or intent to profit.

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-o0O0o-

"File It Under 'L'"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

Sitting down at the table across from him, she asked an opening question; "How do you feel?"

"Somewhere between burnt out and defiant, I don't know..." He sighed, "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."

"You're not giving up, are you?"

"No, no way..." he somehow managed to put his forehead in both hands and shake his head at the same time, "I just wish I had kept my temper a little better, maybe set things up first instead of doing this on the spur of the moment like I did. Damn, that was stupid of me."

"Honestly, I think some of your most brilliant moments have been on the spur of the moment like that," she countered, "We should be able to make this one of them/"

"And how do you suggest we do that? I hate to admit it, but I'm the latest game in town; taking shots at me is looking like the new sport in Washington. It's so popular, it's bipartisan," he snorted as he retorted in a rambling way that if she hadn't known better would have made her think he was drunk.

"You're forgetting something; even if some people don't like you, plenty of others still respect you because they know where you stand and they know you won't back down," She reached over and took one of his wrists, pulling the hand away from his face, "Not everyone can say that. We both know that Leo can't."

He looked at her through the space where his hand and arm had been, not paying attention to the fact that she still had his wrist in her hand, "That doesn't change the fact that I ran and we both know that's what everyone's going to say."

"Not everybody," she corrected, reaching into her bag with her free hand and laying a plain white envelope on the table between them, "This arrived at the office today, you might want to take a look."

She released the hand she still had by the wrist as he moved its partner, opening the envelope and removing the single sheet of paper from inside. his eyes widening as he read it.

"Are they serious?" He asked when he reached the end of the letter.

"Appearently," she answered.

"Are they serious?" he repeated, causing her to roll her eyes.

"The meeting's tonight at seven, why don't you just ask them yourself?"

"Are you serious?" he asked this time, "I can't meet with them just like that - do you have any idea how badly I'll probably put my foot in my mouth and end up starting an argument without you there to keep me under control? You have to come with me."

"I can't," she shook her head, "I still work at the White House, you know CJ's got enough to deal with because of that tampered report, she doesn't need to get questions about me being involved in a meeting like this."

He stood up and paced a moment in thought, then stopped and looked at her, "Marry me."

She stared at him for a moment, "What?"

"Marry me," he repeated, "That way if anyone asks, it has nothing to do with the White House, you'd just be there with your fiancee."

"You can't just ask me like that," she answered quickly, rushing through the words.

"Why not?" he asked, "We can meet with them tonight and go ring shopping tomorrow, if anyone asks you can just blame me and tell them it's the best way for you to make sure I don't get into trouble without you."

"You're not supposed to ask someone to marry you on the spur of the moment like that, there should be wine and candlelight and roses, it should be romantic!"

"You just said I was at my most brilliant on the spur of the moment, are you taking it back now? Besides, those other things, the wine and candlelight and roses, soft music, I'm sure they're great for other people, but they're not us," he countered, "A romantic proposal for us would probably involve working late going over files and surprising you with a ring hidden in a folder filed under 'R' for ring or maybe 'E' for engagement..."

"'D'," she corrected absently, "Since it would probably be a _diamond_ ring, after all."

"See what I mean? I can't do this without you..." He paused, "Well, I can, I guess, but we both know I probably shouldn't. Imagine what I might get into without you there, think of the effects on the country... do it for the American people."

She burst out laughing, "Seriously? 'Do it for the American people'? CJ's right, you are an 'idiot-boy' and you can't say anything about my saying it because you're not my boss anymore, so you can't even threaten to fire me."

He pouted, "I couldn't fire you before anyway, you were impervious."

"What am I going to do with you?" she sighed.

"Marry me," he repeated again.

She thought for a moment, "On one condition. From this moment forward, you do not, for any reason, expect me to bring you coffee and never again ask me to."

"Deal."

* * *

-o0O0o-

Author's Note: Figured out my riddle yet? I'll give you a hint. What was her answer to the proposal, what will she say at the wedding, and what three words will be said in between?


	3. Scandalous Secret

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 9 February.

The title of the story is a nod to baileywhit's excellent Josh/Donna story "Operation Idiots" where it's the name of a contingency plan developed to deal with a relationship between Josh and Donna existing in the form of a clandestine romance. If you're a Josh/Donna fan and haven't read "Operation Idiots", go, do it now, go, do it, go now, now...

Yeah, that thing Toby and Josh did to Sam about 'tempting the wrath from high atop the thing' doesn't work so well with one person. It just ends up sounding stupid...

Disclaimer: The West Wing is the creation of Aaron Sorkin and property of NBC, used without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Scandalous Secret"  
By; J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

"Your alarm?"

"Set for seven."

"And a taxi?"

"Called for nine."

"Plane takes off?"

"At eleven," he shrugged on his jacket, "I got this."

"You've got to be there on time, Josh," Donna reminded him.

"Donna," Josh repeated, "I got this."

It was probably the greatest masterpiece of subterfuge and low cunning that Josh had ever worked to ramrod, and surprisingly it had nothing to do with anything going through Congress at the moment. He'd told Leo he was going to Florida to see his mother and told his mother he was going to see a friend. He didn't want anyone to know he was slipping out of Washington for the first weekend that could be called a 'vacation' that he would be taking since the Bartlett campaign had won the White House.

The next day at fifteen minutes to eleven, Josh settled himself down in his seat on the plane and sighed in relief; no last minute international crisises, no sudden vote swings, no riders or amendments to bills that were already supposed to be finished, nothing could stop him now. It was a good feeling. Leaning his head back, Josh closed his eyes and relaxed.

Minutes passed before a voice disturbed Josh's reverie, "Hey."

Opening his eyes, Josh looked into the most wonderfully blue set of eyes he had ever seen, and he grinned, "Hey."

"You're on time, Joshua," Donna teased as she picked up his bookbag from her seat and dropped it onto his feet, "What happened? Did you finally get a new watch?"

"Donnatella Moss," Josh retorted as she sat down in the seat she had just cleared, "Does your boss know where you are?"

"I don't know, Josh," Donna shot back, "My boyfriend was supposed to tell him, but I think he was too distracted by the thought of me in a bikini."

"Very funny, Donna."

"Why thank you, Joshua," Donna grinned back, "If you're nice, I might even let you see it first-hand."

Josh looked at her in hurt surprise, "When am I ever not nice?"

"That depends, most of the time boss-Josh isn't nice and I have to placate Senators and Representatives alike with offerings of fruit and muffins," Donna reminded him, "But boyfriend-Josh can be very nice, he just doesn't like people to see because it might hurt boss-Josh's reputation."

"Well, boyfriend-Josh wants to remind girlfriend-Donna that in a few hours this plane will be landing in Hawaii and for the next four days, no one on Earth is going to see a trace of boss-Josh," Josh smirked, "I'll even forgo sniping at Republicans for the duration of our vacation, just for you."

"Remember that bikini, Josh?"

"Yeah?"

Donna leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Play extra nice and we'll see about finding some secluded beach where I won't need it."


	4. Snow Angels

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 11 February.

Disclaimer: The West Wing is the creation of Aaron Sorkin and property of NBC, used without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Snow Angels"  
By; J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

Josh smiled and leaned against the column with his arms folded, he was trying his best not to laugh at one simple fact; Ainsley and Zoey could get Sam and Charlie to do anything they wanted them to, even play in the snow that currently covered Washington. The snowman that the President's bodyman and the First Daughter were building was nice, the sight was very cute, but it was seeing his best friend and the Associate White House Counsel engaged in a snowball fight was what had the Deputy Chief of Staff ready to laugh. It was a 'fight' only in the loosest sense of the word, a 'slaughter' or a 'landslide' might be a better term considering the lopsided nature of the fight. It was almost embarrassing, because one would think that by now Sam would have figured out that he never won when he went up against Ainsley, not in debates, disagreements or, it seemed, winter games. Maybe it had something to do with being a card-carrying, Second Amendment-preaching Republican, because every time Sam made the mistake of looking at her, Ainsley managed to catch him right in the face with a snowball.

'Sam, Sam, Sam,' Josh thought, not sure whether it was just his friend's trusting nature or the fact that despite his denials the Deputy Communications Director had a 'thing' for the South Carolina native, but he would have expected him to stop looking up to get a snowball to the face every time she called his name.

"Oh, Sam!"

'Like now,' Josh winced as Sam looked out from behind the tree and was on the recieving end of another winter projectile, causing him to drop his own snowball, 'Please don't let this get out, the Republicans would never let us live this down.'

Glancing over at the other pair, even with his status as 'Honorary Big Brother-figure', somehow Josh was sure that he didn't want to know what conversation was happening between them that involved Charlie pointing at Zoey with the carrot meant to be the snowman's nose and her responding by biting the end off of it. So engrossed was he in his observations that Josh didn't realise that Ainsley wasn't the only blonde out and about until he found himself on the ground and face-first in the snow, having been the reciepient of a sudden shove forward. As he lay on his stomach spitting out snow, Josh heard laughter from above and behind him.

"I'm not sure you realise this, but you're supposed to lay on your back to make snow angels, Joshua," Donna teased.

"Donnatella..." Josh retorted as he wiped snow from his face, "Have I tried to fire you today?"

Donna held up a hand and grinned, "Impervious."

Scooping up some snow, Josh climbed to his feet, "Let's see how impervious you are to a little snow down your back, Miss Moss..."

"Josh," Donna began to back up as Josh approached her, "Josh, don't you dare!"

"Donna," Josh countered with a grin, "You pushed me."

"That's because you looked like you needed to cool off for a little while," Donna shot back defensively.

"Well, then, so do you," Josh reached forward with the hand full of snow, causing Donna to turn and run away, leaving him to follow after her.

As Josh chased Donna, Leo shook his head, "Kids..."

Taking in the scene of the six younger people playing in the snow, Bartlet chuckled, "I don't know, Leo, I'm tempted to go join them. If Abby were here, we probably would."


End file.
